Namesake Series: Champagne Supernova
by Out of the Dust
Summary: James S. Potter lives a life parallel to his grandfather's while Al's looks similar to his father's. James and his friends ignore the mounting tension of a new rebellion to explore wilder sides of Hogwarts. Al finds his third year to be his most challenging yet, and first year Lily makes her own way. 4th in a series.
1. Prologue

A/N: Finally back again! Sorry about the super long wait!

This is the 4th in my namesake series, and if you haven't read the first three yet, I highly encourage you to do so. You might not know what's happening otherwise!

For people who have read my the previous three: you may have noticed this one is rated differently the other three. (That is if you actually check ratings; I suspect some don't.) It's not for anything major. Just some language and because James is getting older and so his world is much more broader than it has been in the past.

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_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._**  
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**Champagne Supernova**

Prologue

The ground will feel cold beneath him, and he knows he should be confused, but he's not. Its pitch black outside, chilly, and the sound of rustling tree branches come at his ears in a million different directions. He sits up, lets his eyes readjusted to the darkness, and gapes at this forest he's never been in before.

He's gripping something in his palm as if he's determined not to let it go. He looks around before opening his hand, and struggling to see a small, gold ring. He can't determine why he thinks it so important. It's just a ring, but he closes his fist over it again, somehow knowing he can't let this piece of jewelry out of his sight.

He gets to his feet and listens closely. He isn't alone. There are people coming, shouting, and one of them has yelled out his name. Are they looking for him? He doesn't understand – they don't sound like anyone he knows. He stands, and waits for them to get closer. He's almost sure they aren't dangerous.

The first one he notices is a girl with red hair. She's leading a group of older boys up to him. Two of them look as if they have just gotten out of bed with hair messier than he's ever seen before, and the other boy stands far behind missing the since of urgency the rest of the group had etched across their faces.

"Where did you go?" the girl with red hair asks. "You disappeared – we were really worried!"

She was worried? He wants to move backwards, away from this strange girl, and yell at the rest of them that he doesn't know who they are. She frowns at him when he doesn't say anything back to her. He continues to stare wide-eyed, trying to figure out where he was and what was happening.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Did you find it?" This is from one of the boys with the messy hair – the taller one.

"Find what?"

"What do you mean 'what'?"

"James, he's just confused," says the girl. "Did you hit your head again?"

He feels a shock wave of panic spread through him. Did he hit his head? Did he have memory problems? The last thing he remembers was putting his head down on his pillow and now he was in some forest with a bunch of kids he's never meet before.

"I _knew _this was a bad idea!" James blurts out. "I knew we couldn't trust him. He doesn't even know what the bloody hell is going on! He's probably just trying to get us into even more trouble."

The little red-headed girl suddenly grows several inches. She stands between him and James. "Yeah, because that makes sense. This is more important than losing house points or detention. Someone is going to steal the stone tonight, and he's –" She points at him. "-is the only one who knows where it is."

James glares at her, and she glares back.

"Hey, what's that you got in your hand?" asks a different boy. He's leaning up against a tree in a careless hunch. "It's not small, and ring-like is it?"

He nods slowly. The girl looks like she's won a victory, and the boy called James just looks relieved. He holds out his hand, and is expecting him to hand it over. But he doesn't. His eyes are back to being wide, because there's someone coming up behind them, and he's almost sure that they are dangerous.

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A/N: Yup, I know the tenses switch, but don't worry. This is exclusive to the prologue only.


	2. Fate P1

Disclaimer:_ I do not own Harry Potter. _

**Champagne Supernova**

Chapter One: Fate

Part One

James shut his broomstick in his locker, and ran a towel through his soaking wet hair. It was a mess outside, hadn't stopped raining since it had started early that morning and the wind certainly didn't help matters. Neither of the two awful weather conditions had convinced any of the coaches to cancel the long day of drills and practice plays they had planned. At first James had thought it was rather admirable, half-wished Hogwarts would allow its students to play in such conditions, but then the day drug off, and it got colder. It rained even harder, and everyone became miserable.

And this was just week two of James's stay at the renowned Quidditch International. It was a summer program for what the coaches called 'gifted' young Quidditch players. As much as James loved the stroke of his ego, he didn't love the way Quidditch International played Quidditch. In fact, he was beginning to resent it.

The days were long, and the nights were too short. James couldn't even remember the last time he'd gotten more than six hours of sleep, but he didn't even care about that part. He could do without the sleep. It was the drills that were killing him. Drill, after drill while without so much as a promise of playing an actual game. Fundamentals, they were told, were key. James didn't agree, and he wasn't alone.

His American, Muggle-born dorm mate named Logan was under the impression they had entered into some kind of Quidditch boot camp. James wasn't sure exactly what he meant by it, but he a feeling it had something to do with the amount of time the coaches spent yelling and shouting about those stupid drills.

James sighed, and slung his practice bag over his shoulder. For once in his life, James couldn't wait to go back home but he still had four long weeks of torture left. He started to leave the changing rooms, planning on going directly to his room to sink into his bed.

"Yo, Potter!"

James ignored it. He knew who the voice belonged to, and at that moment, he didn't feel like socializing. Unfortunately the other boy hadn't received the message, or had, and just didn't care. He caught up with James before was even close to the door, forcing an interaction James didn't want.

"What do you want, Jet?" asked James.

"Just to wish you a happy birthday," he replied cheerfully. "It's your birthday, yeah?"

"Oh," James said, lighting up. "I guess it is."

Jet grinned wildly and continued to follow James out of the changing rooms, heckling other boys and making obscene gestures at them as he went. By the time James was opening the door, Jet had the entire locker room rallied up and ready to fight him, but that was just how he had fun. He didn't care that the only person at International that could tolerant him was James. Jet didn't care about anything at all. The truth was Jet was reminding James of his best friend Sam, and anything that reminded him of home couldn't be hated.

"We should celebrate," Jet said, abruptly. "You only turn fourteen once, don't cha?"

James raised an eyebrow. "Celebrate how?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Nothin' special. Let's just go out. Have a smoke. Get plastered, find some ladies…"

James smiled, but inside he was shaking his head. He didn't believe for a second Jet had ever done any of the mentioned things. "Yeah? And how are we going to do that? This place isn't much of a party zone."

"There's a wizard's pub over on Canal Street," he said at once.

He almost asked Jet know in the name of Merlin he would know, but then remembered Jet was from Manchester, the very same city Quidditch International hide in plain sight.

"I can't go into pub," said James. "Too risky. Someone will recognize me, and the last thing I need is the Daily Prophet printing out some rubbish article about the son of the chosen one drinking up at a pub."

Jet's expressions fell a little. "Oh. Right. You're James bloody Potter. Can't go anywhere with you, can I? Absolute bollocks being you, mate."

"Yeah, it's awful," James agreed, and he wasn't even sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

"But that's alright," he brightened up right away. "I've got a better idea anyhow. The Muggles are having a concert. Supposed to be pretty big. I reckon we can get in. No one will recognize you there."

"A Muggle concert?" James repeated. He didn't understand why Jet was so excited about the idea. To be honest, James had liked the first one better despite how dumb it would be for the two of them to walk into a pub, especially being underage.

"Ya don't understand," said Jet. "But you will. You in?"

James laughed. What harm could a concert hosted by Muggles cause? He was more likely going to get into more trouble staying at his dorm room than going out to a boring show of Muggle musicians.

"Sure," he said. "How'd you even know about this anyway?"

"I heard that moron of a roommate of yours whinin' bout it all day. How he wishes he could go. What a prat. I'd like to rough him up a little up. Maybe I will."

"You'll get chucked out for that."

"So what? This place is hell anyway."

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"I hate being away from James on his birthday," Ginny complained as rotated her glass in circles. Rose watched her aunt from across the table, and wondered if she hated because she missed him or because she worried what he might do when left to his own devices to celebrate. She suspected it might be a mixture of both.

"I'm sure he's having fun, whatever it is he's doing," Harry assured her.

"As long as it's not too much fun," she said. "And I hope Al is doing okay. He's never been so far away from home by himself before."

"He'll be fine, Gin," said Harry. "They'll both be fine."

Rose kept her thoughts to herself, and shifted around uncomfortably in her chair, trying to straighten out her gown without drawing too much attention to herself. She hated wearing gowns, but her love of politics had won out. Attending the annual Ministry of Magic dinner party had always been a dream of hers, and this year her mother finally allowed her to come along.

Tonight's dinner party was especially interesting. With Shacklebolt's reign as Minister of Magic coming to end, it was finally the night they would nominate people who would possibly fill his shoes. Mitch Gallows was sure it would be him.

Rose sat at the table designed for her family and watched him from a distance. Working the room with a certain type of flashy charm Rose had trouble believing was real, and shaking hands with the people who would someday decide whether or not he would be in one of the most powerful positions in the world.

Her parents along with Ginny and Harry mostly kept to the table, too. They talked in hushed whispers about which action they should take, but never agreed. Rose wasn't worried, though. She had complete faith that the same kids who took down Voldemort could stop someone like Mitch Gallows as adults.

Rose put her eyes back him. This time he wasn't trying to impress important ministry people. Instead he was exchanging heated words with a blonde haired boy…

"Is that Sam?" Rose asked out loud. She had never seen him so dressed up before, and barely recognized him. All the adults at the table turned their attention to the father and son who were bickering quietly. Or rather Mitch was quiet. Rose had the idea Sam didn't really care who heard or what they thought about it. The argument didn't last long, though and Sam was heading into their direction, picking up a small glass from an unattended table on his way.

"Sam," Ginny called out, catching him off guard, as he hadn't noticed them or else had pretended not to. He stopped, and flashed a grin at them before walking over.

"Look at this guy. Spent the entire summer with us last year, and can't even stop and say hello," teased Harry, good-naturedly.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter. I haven't exactly been making rounds."

"What was that about? Over there with your dad?" asked Rose's dad and she inwardly groaned, surprisingly embarrassed at her dad's blunt and rude question. Rose gave a glance at her mother, and from Hermione's expressions, she guessed she wasn't too happy about it either.

Sam didn't seem to mind. Didn't even miss a beat. "Oh, you know, my dad pretty much just ruined my life. Don't worry, though, pretty soon he'll be Minister of Magic and he can ruin everyone else's, too."

"Wouldn't count on it," said Harry with pure confidence. Rose wondered what his plan could be. Nominations would start any time now, and if something was going to be done about the Gallows situation, it needed to happen soon.

Sam grinned again, politely not sincerely. "I'm glad not everyone thinks that decision is final… Sorry to be short, but I've got to go. Other things to do." He turned to walk away when Harry called him back only long enough to confiscate the drink he'd stolen.

"Speaking of boys I worry about," said Ginny, just as soon as Sam was out of earshot.

"You're turning into mum, Gin," Ron told her.

Ginny ignored her brother. "We have to get him away from that man."

"Based on what? He hasn't done anything we can prove," said Harry. "I don't like it either, but I can see the headlines now, 'Harry Potter kidnaps child.'"

"Not to mention we're not even entirely sure you can trust him," said Ron.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. He's just a boy." Ginny put in.

"He's the son of the enemy. Can't trust him."

Rose understood where her dad was coming from, but she almost understood that her Aunt Ginny didn't see Sam as the son of the enemy. Rose was almost completely sure that Ginny thought as Sam as one of her own.

"Rose," said Harry. "Do you think you can keep an eye on him? Sam, I mean. I don't want anything to ruin the nominations."

"Yeah, I can do that," said Rose, but not without giving her Uncle a strange look. He didn't want anything to ruin the nominations? Did he plan on nominating someone? Did he plan on being nominated? Rose had to admit those possibilities were a lot more welcome than the next Minsiter of Magic being a descendant of Gellert Grindelwald.

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A/N: Since I've taken so long to post this story and originally chapter one was so, so long, I've decided to split it into three parts. I should be back to posting weekly, but my schedule is crazy this year so that won't be possible all the time. Thanks for reading! If you're looking for anyone information about this series check out my profile page. I try to update it every once in awhile.

Part 2 has more James, two people at said Muggle concert who recognize James, and more Rose and Sam. Look for it!


	3. Fate p2

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._

Chapter One: Fate

Part Two

James followed Jet's lead, and found it to be easy enough to sneak in behind a pack of older girls. Jet was making eyes at them, pretending to be older himself and interested in the headlining band, which James was sure Jet had never heard of in his life. But it was entertaining to watch the girls see right through all of it, especially since once they got inside, the traffic was toe to toe and barely moving at all.

He had never been around so many Muggles in his life. It wasn't exactly comfortable, not because he was racist, but because he didn't know how to act. James had a sudden appreciation for first year Muggleborns.

"Hey," said Jet, "Let's get backstage."

"Backstage?" James said, "Don't you think that's pushing it a little? And what's backstage?"

"The band… free drinks. Everyone knows that's where the real party is."

"Whatever," James said. "Have you done this before?"

"Just a few times."

"Unbelievable," he muttered, but followed along anyway.

Getting backstage was even easier than getting into the building, which James found completely strange, but the music from the speakers was so loud he didn't try to make a comment. Instead, he flashed Jet a grin and a thumb-ups, pretending to be happy about what they had so easily achieved. James had an awful feeling about this whole night.

If there was one thing in his life he didn't understand it was how he was pulled into situations like this one. Last summer it was a wild ride on a motorbike, and that didn't turn out well. James suspected this wouldn't either, but he was already in too deep. Asking Jet to leave now wouldn't work.

Backstage was a little bit quieter, but filled with a muggles running around with strange objects. People came and went in and out of doors, walking around with bottles of alcohol, and everybody was yelling at each other. James found it relaxing. It was a break from camp – where he was the one being shouted at.

Jet seemed to know where he was going, and he finally stopped when they got what James could only assume was the lobby. It was an easy mix of rich people with tall glasses of champagne to random teenagers sporting jeans with holes and black T's. But over in the corner James saw the last two people he expected to see. He stopped, pulled Jet back by his arm, and they both ducked behind a large crowd.

"What are you doing?" Jet whispered furiously.

James didn't answer. His eyes were focused on his little brother, Al, as he talked and laughed with Holly Philips. They had another, shorter and younger boy with them too. James didn't recognize him. He couldn't remember Holly ever talking about having a younger brother. Jet followed James's stare, and looked back and forth between them.

"Do you _know_ them?"

"Yeah," said James. "That's my brother."

"Oh, then let's go say hi."

James grabbed Jet's arm with a harsh tug just as he started to dart towards Al and Holly.

"Ow! What's the matter with you?"

"Let's wait a little bit. Just to see what they're doing here."

Jet looked at James as if he were stupid. It was painfully obvious what they were doing. Philips was a Muggleborn, after all, and had probably invited Al along because he was such a weirdo that might actually like Muggle music. But James didn't want them to know he was here. He wanted to watch them when they didn't think he was watching them.

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Rose stepped out onto the balcony, welcoming the breeze as fresh air and tugging at her gown. She still wasn't used to wearing it, or the shoes her mother had hesitantly picked out for her. It was all getting rather uncomfortable, but if she was honest with herself, it was nice to be dressed up for a change.

She found Sam sitting on the ledge, his legs dangling over the edge, and another stolen drink making its way to his lips. While she had to admire his determination, she didn't feel like it was particular safe for him to be hindering his sense of balance in his position. Rose opted not to lecture this time. In a gown with her normally bushy hair put back elegantly she was beginning to feel like a normal girl, and it was Sam, after all. Since when did he listen to anything she had to say?

He turned around and grinned at her. "Do you want some?"

Rose almost said yes. Sam made drinking look like so much fun, and she noticed his hair was a little bit darker, a little bit longer giving her the impression he hadn't cut it since she had last seen him at school. She really was going to accept his offer, but he cut her off just in time.

"No, just kidding," said Sam. "I know you won't do anything interesting."

She gave him a quick glare, but recovered fast enough to save face. "Interesting as in sitting by yourself?"

"Of course," he said. "It's better than being in there, pretending that everything is alright."

"Didn't look like you were pretending much to me."

"Who said anything about me?" He shot back. "Your lot seem to be quite happy with the way things are."

Rose doubted that. She'd seen Sam shamelessly lie to teachers and get away with it, even in the most absurd situations. He could foreign innocence just as well as James, sometimes better, and had a knack for making people like him even when they had every reason not to. Redirecting the attention back at 'her lot' was classic Sam logic.

"How's Becca?" The question popped into her mind and out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

Sam shot a look of disgust. "Who?"

"Well, Al said that Holly told him that Becca has been visiting your house…"

"Then Al and Holly should mind their own business," he said, darkly. He looked at her long and hard, but before Rose could comment, he brightened up considerably with a winning smile that came out of nowhere. "I should be going back in… after all, my dad _is _the guest of horror."

Sam quickly drank the rest of his drink, left the glass on the ledge, and turned to exit the balcony. He got to the threshold before looking at her, and saying, "You look good tonight, Rose."

And then he disappeared into the ballroom, leaving Rose standing on the balcony feeling quite confused. Sam was strange for sure, and definitely unpredictable, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint what exactly had just happened. From his odd reaction to bring up Becca to his even weirder compliment, Rose just didn't know how to analyze this… whatever it was.

She waited a minute to work past her confusion before she slipped back inside the ballroom. Rose moved to her seat quickly when she saw one of her mother's friends at the office standing at the center, ready to begin the political part of the evening. She felt an anxious feeling in her stomach, and forgot about Sam's strangeness completely.

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AN: Yeah, I know it's been a really long time! Sorry. Hopefully I can end this chapter in the next week and then continue to post weekly or even once every two weeks. :)

As always thanks for reading, and if you're new to this series check my profile and read the first 3 stories!


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